


Weight of the World

by haloneshiral



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloneshiral/pseuds/haloneshiral
Summary: Being called the Warrior of Light carries a burden no one could ever fully grasp— save for one.
Relationships: Ardbert/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Weight of the World

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to take matters into my own hands and write what I loved: Two people bound by fate and parted by duty.

As soon as she had the solitude and privacy of her own quarters, Caesia shut the doors behind her and slumped against them for support.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhaled, sinking onto the floor. 

Her carbuncle leapt onto her lap and curled up in her arms. She glanced down at him, scratching his ears lightly.

“We’ve really got it going for us now. Twelve _fuck_ me.”

Despite the warmth and kindness shown by the elusive Crystal Exarch, Caesia felt as though she held her breath from the minute she had arrived. She set Crouton aside and attempted to gather herself, but found that her knees buckled underneath her weight. The journey might have left her worse for wear, but it was her mind that wore her down.

Too much had been said too quickly, too casually for her to process. That an eternal nightless sky hangs aloft. That her friends yet live. That she had been designated the savior of a star unknown to her. That the flow of time may or may not be on her side while Eorzea is without its champion. It was in these moments she found herself missing friends she trusted implicitly.

But in the First, she had no one.

Her impulse was to set out and search for the Scions—some of whom had not seen her in five summers. The time she had possibly thought them at death’s door on the Source could not even compare to the twins’ twelvemoon on this shard. And yet Caesia had lost countless nights of sleep all the same. But there was no telling what could happen and how much time would pass if she would stay for a reunion, much less stay to rid the First of its ails. 

The cutting tension between the Alliance and the Empire had frayed what little peace could be found in Eorzea. And each passing moment she spent away threatened to sway it in Garlemald’s favor. Everything she held dear could be lost in a war in her absence.

She pulled her knees to her chest. The very thought made her wince.

The entire ordeal had been so draining and disorienting that she had taken everything at face value. Who could even say that the Exarch had been truthful at all? Betrayal was not a foreign concept to her. Would it not be a wiser choice to fight for something she knew to be true? And what if he _were_ truthful? For someone to reach across time and space to enlist her aid, only for her to spurn his cause. Could she turn away at the expense of people he intended to save? For all her selfishness, she could not make a decision so cruel.

Caesia was roused from her thoughts when Crouton nipped at her blood-red robes. She returned the gesture by crouching down to stroke his fur. Her breath caught in her throat as she closed her eyes. If anyone could see her now, they would not recognize the ineffable Warrior of Light stripped of her confidence.

“I need some air, is all. Go on, get some rest.” She smiled weakly, nudging him in the opposite direction. 

The carbuncle bumped his head against her leg a few more times, before retreating to a place out of sight— a location betrayed only by the sound of soft pitter-patter against the tiles.

Caesia finally took notice of the Exarch’s accommodations. Though not the most luxurious, it was perhaps the most inviting and comforting an inn room had ever been for her. A table with food and a flagon of ale prepared beforehand was a welcome kindness. And she needed every bit of kindness she could get.

“At least I get all this space to myself,” She sighed, crossing the room to the windows.

She fumbled with wresting the iron frames open, desperate to be rid of the suffocating thoughts. But with the sight of the swirling, bright “night” sky, the crushing weight in her ribs had not abated.

“Great,” Caesia laughed wryly. She gestured at the sky to no one in particular. “Really can’t catch a break today.”

But before she could pass a second more wallowing in her dilemma, an eerie distorted voice called out from behind her.

Immediately, Caesia whipped around, hand outstretched, arming herself with a spell. _‘Voidsent? Or would it be an Ascian?’_

“…You…?” The aether violently swirled and warped into a humanoid form.

She had seen enough that neither seemed to fit the bill, but she could not take the risk. Caesia held her defensive stance until the swirling aether had parted and unveiled a familiar face.

“I know you…” He said, ”You’re the Warrior of Light from the Source!”

Caesia’s arm went slack, and she tilted her head in recognition, her raven hair following in a sweeping movement. It was, after all, a small blessing to find an ally of sorts in trying times.

“…The Warrior of Darkness? So you _have_ made it home.” She scoffed, grinning for the first time since arriving. “Gods, don’t _you_ know how to make an entrance.”

“What?” He seemed alarmed by her response, which in turn, alarmed her.

“…What do you mean ‘what’? Do you not recall, in Dravania—” 

“Did you just… You can hear me!?” His eyes grew wide.

“Of course I can hear you, I’m speaking to you aren’t I?” She placed a hand on her hip. It was uncertain where this conversation was heading.

She had always thought he was a bit of an oddball with his unkempt hair, bravado and flair for drama. _That_ had been her first impression of him, despite the dangers he and his friends had posed. Yet in the end, she could not help but empathize with their plight. They too served Hydaelyn as Warriors of Light, and they too wielded a strength and passion that changed the fate of their home. It was for that parallel that she found a softness in her heart.

“Oh, gods, how long has it been…?” He sighed heavily.

And as if suddenly remembering she was still in the room, he lifted his head and met her gaze.

“…Aye…aye, that was what I called myself in your world… The ‘Warrior of Darkness.’”

Caesia sucked the air through her teeth, clicking her tongue. “Yeah, that’s a mouthful. I don’t know if that’s going to cut it for me. I recall your friend calling you Arbert?”

He shook his head sheepishly.

“My real name is Ardbert.”

“Oh, misheard that one, then.”

“No… Not quite. I used an alias in the Source. A daft one, looking back…” 

There was a hint of amusement in his voice and Caesia smiled in return.

“Alright, ‘Ardbert’ it is.” She said, seating herself within reach of the basketful of bread, breaking off a piece to snack on. 

“And please don’t call me the ‘Warrior of Light.’ You know damn well how exhausting it is to be called that.”

He chuckled. “A fair point. It’s certainly an epithet I’d never asked for.” 

“Nor I. Besides, even if you’d chosen it, the ‘Warrior of Darkness’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it either, no.” She said, brandishing the morsel in his direction as a gesture. “’So it’s Ardbert for you, Caesia for me.”

“Caesia, then.” He responded with an uncharacteristic fondness.

The ragged weariness in his voice was not lost on her. She furrowed her brow, as something in the way he spoke resonated with her, despite the lightness it carried. She knew too well the weight of his duty and how it had unfolded. Ardbert cast a long look out the window. He remained in silence, thoughts seemingly elsewhere though his gaze was fixed skyward. 

“If you recall my tale, it was my comrades and I who caused the Flood.” He said quietly. “We thought our home doomed. And so we listened to the Ascians— let them guide us to the Source and tried to hasten their godsdamned Ardor.”

“Ah, that’s when you and your lot showed up. I won’t lie, you gave us one hell of a fight.” Caesia took another morsel to her lips.

“Well, I remember when we fell, defeated by you and yours.”

“You’re welcome,” She said, and gave him a bow, comical enough to elicit a half-chuckle.

“…And I remember our audience with Minfilia— how she listened to our pleas and returned our souls to the First.”

“Yes, that was the last I saw you. And here you are, on the First.” Caesia looked right at him, then off to the side. “Say, Ardbert, where is everyone else?”

“The Flood was poised to swallow Norvrandt… Minfilia and my friends, they…” He trailed off and broke eye contact.

It quickly occurred to her that it might not have been the best thing to ask. The heavy silence that followed said as much. 

“They… surrendered what little they had left to hold it back. Just faded away.” He said. “Leaving me to bear witness.”

Caesia covered her mouth. Her thoughts turned to Minfilia. She and Urianger had suggested as much, and said as much would happen, but hearing it again after the events had unfolded made it real. She had hoped to find her again, somewhere, somehow perhaps with another audience with Hydaelyn, but that may not— _would_ not— come to pass. Minfilia had faded away. Caesia understood that what had remained of the First— and the survival of those who thrived on it— was their doing. That everything yet existed, was because of them. Then her thoughts turned to Ardbert. She had lost a friend, but he lost four. What could she ever say that would make a difference? She watched him stare at the reminder of all their deeds hanging in the sky. His shoulders were tensed with resignation and the burden of his past. A burden he now carried alone.

He turned back to face her, as though something had occurred to him.

“Caesia, do you know the year? How much time has passed since we caused the Flood?”

Her heart sank. _Does he not know?_ She knew very little of the First and had few answers, but this was one she wished she did not have. Not when there was a sliver of hope in his voice that things might change. She looked down.

“Uh… a century, give or take.” Then she quickly added, hoping to soften the blow somehow. “At least, that’s what I’d heard.”

“A hundred years…” His voice cracked. “A hundred long years…”

Not one for verbal apologies, she poured him a cup of ale, and set it on the table for him. He had watched her do so, but his expression simply grew more defeated.

“I thought maybe you might need one. I know I do.” She poured herself one as well, and began to down it. Gods help her.

He remained at a distance, watching her drink and no doubt thought about her more somber expression despite her attempts at humor. She surmised as much, knowing her face well, and how easily her emotions were laid bare. He made his way towards his cup, locking eyes with her the entire time. His hand simply passed through the cup of ale.

Caesia’s eyes widened. “You can’t…?”

“No,” He shook his head, staring at his gloved hand.

“My hands find no purchase. My gestures catch no eye. And my pleas, be they whispered or screamed, reach not a single ear…” Ardbert lamented. “I am a shade, cursed to do naught but drift. I feel as if I’ve been walking forever… ”

“For a hundred years… Truly? Without ever interacting with anything or anyone. How have you not lost your sanity?” Words or tact were never her strong suit, but her voice carried her deepest sympathies. The pain she had imagined could never compare to his reality.

“Truthfully, I hardly noticed when my mind and body began to fray at the edges.” He lifted his head and gave her a wry smile. “Then ‘bang’, my senses were sharp again. I felt like a fish being reeled in and before I knew it, I found myself in this room.”

“Oddly enough, that accurately describes my harrowing day and how I’d found myself here.” Caesia shrugged and began to down the cup meant for him, wiping the corners of her mouth. 

“But why is it that _you_ can see me?”

“I want to say, ‘Perhaps our destinies are now intertwined.’” She said, batting her lashes. ”but it’s almost certainly because we’re both Warriors of Light. It’s a little tough to think about, given all our connections to each other.”

“I don’t know how you do that, back and forth, all serious and now sarcastic.” He said, gesturing to her. ”What are you even doing here, come to that?”

“In the least amount of words, supposedly, this figure called the Crystal Exarch had been attempting to conjure me out of thin air and successfully pulled me from The Source to the First. If you recall my companions, they too had been pulled here, though purely on accident. He hopes I would fight to preserve what remains of the First. I know naught of his intentions, but…”

“You were summoned to save the First? A waste of time.” Ardbert crossed his arms, and looked at her thoughtfully. 

“Not when there are those who yet survive.” She offered.

“No, this world is beyond saving— like those who try to save it. Muddled as my mind may be, I’ve not forgotten that.” He said quietly. “But if fate has brought me to you—“

“Intertwined destinies, baby.” She said, taking another swig.

He paused in the middle of his thoughts, looking at her with a flat expression, while she smiled back.

“But _if_ fate has brought me to you— the one person in this gods forsaken world who can see or hear me— then perhaps there is a reason I endured.”

“Perhaps. I’d like to believe you have a purpose, even if it is tied to me somehow. Because the alternative is, you’re just a ghost haunting my bedroom.” She snorted into her cup.

The thought occurred to him, and he frowned. “…Must you put it that way?”

“Hey, I don’t like it either.” She shrugged. “I’m saying you must have a purpose. Truly. I believe it.”

“If I can find out why I was left behind then maybe… maybe I can bring this journey of mine to an end…”

And it was all he could hope for at this point. For his weary soul to find rest after a century of wandering and bearing the guilt of the Flood. She could not help but feel mournful for their fates, his above the rest, though she had not known them in life.

“You will. I’ll make sure of it.” It was an outlandish promise to a man long gone in a land ravaged by light, but it seemed to be something she could set right. And she felt it to the core of her being.

“Well, I’ll be watching, Caesia.”

“Let me know if you do. At least I’d know it’s you when I feel like I'm being watched.”

He gave her a faint smile and turned to leave. “Do me a favor. Be careful out there. This world has had its fill of heroes.” 

Before she could get another word in, he was gone. She drummed her fingers on the table, staring at the two empty cups for a moment, then refilled one of them halfway.

“Not if I can help it.” She muttered, taking a generous sip. She wondered if she had found clarity and purpose.


End file.
